The Birth of Madness The untold origin of the Joker
by morbidking06
Summary: A night of unexpected passion between two psychotic killers results in the birth of history's most dangerous psychopath.


**An: sorry everyone, my iPhone messed up horribly and that was the only way I could get my stories on this site and nearly all my ideas for this story went out the window, so I am so sorry for this not coming out as well as my other stuff not getting updated. No excuses but that's what happened. The story I bring you was born from a theory saying Jerome and Barbara were the Jokers parents, and this baby was born.**

 **As always the characters belong to DC and the WB.**

In a dark and desolate part of Gotham where no man dares to go, a man walks in cold and tattered clothes, alone and broken. Thoughts of Madness and pain course through his head, memories of a fire haired teen with murder in his eyes and a clown's grin on his lips along with those of a blonde bombshell who'd kill you as soon as kiss you. What these thoughts and memories had to do with his current situation he'd never know, but they were swirling around his mind like a tornado.

He walked into a building that mostly seniors lived in. No one was there to greet him, but he did use the back door because a part of him hated the glares he'd receive from the old woman who owned the building, he had no idea why of course. Memory's a tricky thing isn't it?

Everything in his mind was in a fog. Thoughts of mayhem and destruction were very appealing and the act of murder was a temptation that was hard to resist. As he walked up the steps he saw police tape over the door of the apartment, looking at it, a strange feeling of mourning swept over him.

In an act of unexpected fury he kicked the door open and flashbacks begin assaulting his mind in violent images of blood and death. He had to turn around and exit the small domicile, it was overwhelming. The thoughts of a life that might not be his anymore. Of a love that was lost, and destroyed.

Twenty years earlier.

After the massacre at the GCPD they celebrated, liquor and other substances lingered in the air. Jerome and Barbara were very pleased with the aftermath of their work and decided to take the party elsewhere. They retreated to Barbara's room with a very expensive bottle of wine, and the look of lust in their eyes was mutual. He tore off her blouse, taking in the sight of her bare chest, animalistic lust overtook him when he ravaged her neck and chest.

He lifted her up by her ass while she wound her legs around his waist.

Twenty years later.

Sitting alone near the chalk outline of where his beloved wife body was found memories of his mother came crashing back, how she constantly screamed at him and beat him for being just like his daddy! Oh how she loved saying how a perfect angel like Jenny could love a pathetic excuse for man like him. How a weak and useless coward like him had no business being in the marines, how he had no reason to mourn the old bitch when he killed her.

And just as he was weeping for his Jenny, three armed thugs came into the small home. These were the same thugs who left him to die after the shootout with the cops, came looking for him after they heard he made it out alive, coming by to make sure he did die. Three of them were armed, the leader had a pump action shotgun while the others had hand guns. They saw him sitting in the kitchen on his knees crying with his back towards them.

"Hey! You thought you saw the last of you little snitch-bitch!"

The one with the shotgun yelled.

The only response they received was a haunting demonic laugh.

"Yeah I got that chief! But tell me, what are you gonna do when the boss losses use for you and your asshole friends!" The slumped figure croond with psychotic glee.

As soon as their guard was down contemplating what he said the Joker pulled out two m 1911 hand guns he had hidden under the sink. The cronies were shot in the head while the leader got hit in the kneecaps, screaming in agony, dropping the shotgun. He saw the broken man more clearly now, and fear made it's way to the thugs heart for the first time in his useless life. The man who was the son of Jerome and Barbara was a true amalgamation of his parents darker halves, but more; his green slimy hair covered the ghost like skin of face while luminescent green eyes stare at the helpless coward with hellish fury. The small fool backed away as far as he could despite the pain, while maintaining some semblance of bravery in the presence of the demon before him.

"Adding, I won't care if I die!" He screamed. Showing the irony of his statement by backing away.

The joker giggled at that, joker, saying in a audible whisper. How do ya' know? You haven't tried it yet? Hahaha!"

The next day the red hood gang was found in streets by a street light, which their boss's body hung from. His legs and arms amputated and a smile carved into his face and his eye lids cut off. A note was attached saying, "when your down, look at a clown."

And thus Gotham city's most horrific and eternal nightmare was born.


End file.
